Page 32

Willow

I peered up at the sign for Shield Gym, unblinking.

As was standard for Newcastle in February, it was fucking freezing. I was wrapped in a leopard print puffer jacket that Fran lent me, with workout gear underneath. The chill may have been biting at my toes, or making my lips and ears numb, but I couldn’t tell given the sweat covering my temple.

Today was Friday. Which meant today was my first self-defence class. And I was shitting it.

Why had I thought this was a good idea? What part of me thought I was going to be capable of defending myself against anyone? I was safe with Jack, why would I need to defend myself? My life was safe, even if my mind wasn’t yet.

My feet began to move backwards of their own accord, returning themselves home to the safe haven of Jack’s house, when I bumped into someone.

I bounced back, turning and profusely apologising, and was met with a tall wall of muscle with a beaming smile surrounded by blonde stubble, his head covered in a thick beanie.

“Willow?” a deep familiar Geordie accent drawled.

“Uh, yeah.”

He held a gloved hand out at me, which I simply stared at.

“Mack Flint.” I glanced back up at his face, and realisation dawned on me. I shook myself out of my daze and shook his huge hand. “Based on the look on your face, you’re talking yourself out of this. Am I right?”

“Yep,” I replied, popping the p. “I’m absolutely terrified.”

“I promise you, whatever you’ve been through is more terrifying than what we’re going to be doing in there.” He tipped his chin over my head at the gym behind me. “Shall we head in?” I nodded.

Mack ushered me forward until we met the door, and like I’d forgotten how doors worked, I stood staring at it. Behind me, Mack chuckled, reaching around me and opening the door.

Inside, it was a neutral dream. The walls were cream, a wide panelled half-wall faced the entrance, a bright warm yellow neon sign on the front of the wood-trimmed panelling with the cherry red Shield Gym logo.

The wall behind the reception desk held three arched alcoves, with shelves holding awards and photos of what looked like staff and customers grinning from ear to ear.

A door beyond the desk was labelled ‘The Spaces’.

The wall to the right was see-through glass, giving a direct view into the traditional gym area with weights, dumbbells and cardio machines.

Since it was the middle of a weekday, the attendance there was limited, a few personal trainers working with customers and students firing through their own workouts. To my left, a door to changing rooms.

While I was staring in awe at the beautiful aesthetically pleasing space, Mack was leaning against the half-wall reception desk, chatting to someone on the other side.

I slowly moved to join him, finding what looked like a middle-aged lady with short auburn hair framing her heart-shaped face, bright blue eyes and pinked cheeks as she smiled at me.

“Willow, this is Beth. The best gym manager in the north-east. Beth, Willow. Hopefully a new member of the family.”

“Nice to meet you, Willow. If you need anything, just shout,” she welcomed me before Mack guided me into The Spaces.

Through the door, was a wide corridor with a couple of cream doors on either side.

Each door had a window with a brass sign which could be swiped to show the room’s availability.

Mack opened the door to the closest vacant room so I could peer inside.

It was a large room, with wall-to-wall mirrors on two of the walls on a right angle, there were grey floor mats pushed up against the side, and by the door, shelves full of an assortment of boxing gloves, strapping, and other items that I couldn’t figure out from this distance.

“We have six rooms like this, varying in size. They’re used for group and individual sessions.

Each room has CCTV that is screened to the staff in reception, as well as a panic button by the door, in case anyone feels uncomfortable at any time.

” I glanced just inside the door and found a red panic button.

“The rooms can’t be locked, from either side, so you’re always able to leave, and if needed, someone is always able to check your safety. ” I nodded and he shut the door.

We returned to the main reception, and he pointed through to the changing rooms.

“Both gendered changing rooms are through there. You enter with your thumb print, once you’re signed up.

Until then, here’s a code to enter with.

” He handed me a folded piece of paper. “Pop your coat in a locker and join me in room four when you’re ready.

” He offered me a comforting smile as I pushed through the door.

I entered the changing room with the code and found myself in a warm, comfortable space.

There were lockers of varying sizes lining the wall on the right, and lockable changing spaces at the back of the room.

Opposite, there were bubble sofas and chairs, with a refreshment unit to the side, and a huge coffee machine taking centre stage.

At the back, a frosted glass door leading to showers.

It was the safest, most comfortable and glamorous gym I’d ever been to. I was certain I’d never been able to afford it before, given my finances were controlled. A gym – never mind a fancy gym – would have been out of the question, unless it was for himself.

Conscious not to keep Mack waiting, I shoved my coat, phone, and keys into one of the larger lockers and hurried through to room four in my jumper, leggings, and trainers.

I found Mack placing a mat in the centre of the room. I watched him as he grabbed the tape and two water bottles.

Mack was at least six feet tall with a blonde shaggy mullet. He was now wearing a sports T-shirt and shorts, nothing noteworthy, but he looked good, like this was his territory.

He caught my movement in the mirrors in front of him and invited me into the centre of the room. We dropped to the mats, legs crossed.

“Hi Willow, nice to meet you. I’m Mack.” He held his hand out to me to shake it.

“I know, you said,” I replied confused, taking his hand warily, wincing slightly when he gripped it a little too tightly for my injured finger. He caught my reaction before I could hide it and winced himself.

“Shit, sorry.” He pulled his hand back, leaving me to rub the bandage.

“I want to give you a brief backstory on this place, on me. When I was nineteen, I was in New York with an ex-boyfriend for Christmas. We were jumped by someone who didn’t like what they saw.

We were both hospitalised.” I sucked in a sharp breath at his transparency.

“Even once we were home months later, I was scared and eventually the relationship broke down.”

“Mack,” I breathed out.

“I’m not telling you for sympathy. I’m telling you so you know you’re not alone. Sadly, there’s more people than you know with a similar lived experience. I was so ashamed, until my brother came home from Australia and hauled my arse out of bed and to his gym.

“I relished the feeling of pushing the anxieties out of my body, the endorphins were like a drug-fuelled high. Soon, I was introduced to martial arts and how it could boost not only my strength, stamina, and flexibility,” he counted them on his fingers, “but also my self-confidence and spiritual health.

So, I worked hard to save my money and created Shield Gym.

“I wanted to create an everyone-safe space, somewhere for anyone, but specifically those who have been scarred like I had, so they could come and rebuild themselves physically and emotionally. Talking therapy is great, but sometimes a physical outlet is needed. I started out in Byker. It worked well enough that I decided to open branches elsewhere. This one is my fourth. We opened last year.”

I tried to find the words. “Calling you might have been the best move I’ve made in a long time.” Mack cracked a genuine smile.

“I hope so, but no pressure. This session is for you to get to know me, to feel comfortable enough for you to explore your trauma and exercise those demons. I won’t force you to detail anything, but it would be helpful to understand why you called me.”

I nodded, trying to absorb some of the courage and confidence Mack appeared to have.

I picked up the nearest bottle of water, unscrewing the lid and taking several long gulps just to fill time, Mack’s soft eyes on me the whole time. Anything to delay my story.

“Uh, so I was in a physically, emotionally, and financially abusive relationship for seven years. It wasn’t always like that.

” I automatically tried to justify, though I wasn’t sure why.

I didn’t owe Cain the understanding or justification.

“He started out loving and sweet. Until he started to control how I dressed, where I went, and where my money went. And when I got it wrong, he’d bollock me, verbally at first.

“I first started to notice it at his mum’s birthday party.

I hadn’t kept my hair straight and down, as he liked it, instead putting it in some cute up-do I’d found on Pinterest. I walked downstairs and as he watched me, his expression shifted from neutral to pissed.

” I stared at the grains in the wooden floor, recalling the memory of a night I’d forced into the back of mind as if they resembled the frown on his face.

“I stood in the hall mirror, merrily applying my favourite lipstick when he yanked it out of my hand and pulled my head back by my hair. He shouted that he was sick of my poor listening skills. I still remember the spit landing on my face, and the stinging in my scalp when he tore the pins from my hair.” I sighed.

“My head was slammed into the mirror, and he pushed the lipstick so hard into my cheek it broke, then he rubbed it into my face and told me to sort myself out. I went upstairs and scrubbed the lipstick off my face while I sobbed. I straightened my hair until I could smell burning. Thankfully the new hair do covered the swelling. We went out for the meal, but I can’t remember it. ”

“I’m sorry, that’s awful.”

Mack’s voice surprised me, like I’d forgotten he was there. He held a box of tissues. I reached for one, and smiled, thankful.

“Anyway, a few weeks ago, he proposed at a work event in front of everyone, and I just… panicked.” I froze at relaying th at night.

“I-I said no, but that wasn’t good enough.

After strapping me down and beating me, he took a lighter to the ring before forcing it on my finger.

They had to place me under anaesthetic to remove it and treat the burns, so I’m stuck with this for a while.

” I waved my bandaged hand around, avoiding Mack’s sad eyes and tight jaw.

“This is incredibly unprofessional of me, but what a cunt.”

I snorted a laugh, not expecting such language from him. I knew already that he was the kind of man a girl could rely on.

“You’re not the first to say that, trust me.”

“How did it end?”

“My bosses were at the same event. When I didn’t turn up to work on Monday, they made a welfare check and Jack pushed into the house, I’m not sure I’d be here if he hadn’t.”

I frowned at my injured hand, finding the thought left a bitter taste in my mouth. Mack’s hand moved into my eyeline, gently taking mine in his hand.

“Willow, you said on the phone you’re still in the trenches, and while I don’t doubt you’re feeling the lowest you’ve ever felt, you have done the hardest part.

Did you know the most dangerous time in an abusive relationship is when you try to leave?

I don’t say that to scare you, but to prove your strength.

You left, Willow. You’re out. And while you undoubtedly need a safety net, you are out of his grasp.

This is your chance to prove to you that you are worth the fight, you are worth the commitment, and you’re worth so much more than the life he forced on you. ”